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BEATRICE BELKNAP 



ROSALINE 



BY 



BEATRICE BELKNAP 




LANSING 

DEC. luoo 



7^ 3J^ 3. 



COPYRIGHT 1909 

BY 

D. GORDON PRATT 



©CI.A2532S\i 



DEDICATION. 

To Rev. Winfield Scott Sly, who has labored so 
faithfully in the field of religion and temperance, 
this book is inscribed, by a heart that has been 
uplifted by his work. 

Trusting that these few words will voice, not 
only the gratitude of the author, but the gratitude 
alike of the homeless children that he has 
guarded, of the souls that he has saved, of the 
many that his influence has redeemed from 
drink and of his fellow temperance workers. 

B. B. 



PREFACE. 

To the ladies of the W. C. T. U. and other 
friends, who have made thie pubHshing of my 
httle story possible, I wish to ofifer my sincere 
thanks. 

Thk Author. 



ROSALINE. 

PRELUDE. 

The Guardian. [A Vision.] 

I walked the woodlands, deeply blue, 

With sheen of violets spread; 

And as I wandered where it led, 

I thought the path was one I knew — 

I thought I knew tlie xalc ahead 

Whiere countless flowers grew. 

And yet they were not ^lay-time flowers, 

The flowers that met my sight — for sure 

No flowers of eartli could hold such lore 

Of beauty, passing dreams of ours; 

So frail, so fair, so pure 

They came from Eden's bowers. 

And surely, 'twas no earthly stream 
That rippled on in wa\'elets bright. 
But one we dream of in tlie night ; 
Which water fields we ha\'e not seen — 
In everlasting realms of light — ■ 
The hills of fadeless green. 



ROSALINE 

And those bright spirits dwehing there — 
Surely they wore no mortal guise; 
But rather, Seraphs of the skies, 
Diff'ring from us, because they wear 
Love, lighting lips and brow, and eyes. 
Making their faces fair. 

They wandered 'mid tlie flowers and grass. 

Beside the crystal tide. 

And all .along the vale so wide, 

I saw those airy spirits pass; 

But there was one, who stood beside 

That sea of shimmering glass. 

He stood with lovely eyes cast down. 
As if some pain that wrung his heart, 
Would not at heavens gate depart ; 
He could not go to claim liis crown. 
Until that piercing earthly dart, 
Should from his soul be drawn. 

So my eyes followed where he gazed. 
And lo! our own green cartli shewed fair. 
Beyond that river running there. 
And then I saw, with new surprise. 
How closely bound, how \-ery near 
Our earth is to the skies. 



ROSALINE 

And can it be, this world of gloom, 
Can lie so near that world of light. 
And yet not see its visions bright? 
I looked, thinking on such sad doom, 
A woman — kneeling in our sight — 
Was sobbing o'er a tomb. 

While evermore her pale lips said, 
Voicing her sad heart sore distressed — 
"My child is dead! My child is dead! " 
And so she bowed her stricken head, 
Until it seemed the hand that pressed 
Hers kindl}^ Avas forgot, and He who led. 

That patient One; forever at her side. 
Who, all unseen. His arms about her drew 
And whispered comfort, all the long night 

through. 
The shadow of His wing was spreading wide. 
To guard her, and to shelter; and the dew 
Of His great pity, on her heart was laid. 

And when the long da,y came — 

When her eyes sought so oft the vacant cliair, 

Feeling as if her darling must be there, 

And found it empty, and ea.ch time the same — 

Great wail of bitterness ascended, where 

The Clirist beside lier stood, and heard His name 



ROSALINE 

Repulsed by her sad heart desparingly; 
Unheeding Him, who strove to heal her soul. 
And teach her heart to answer, "It is well." 
Did He turn from her? That could never be. 
For those blest words, once spoke, are ringing 

still- 
Ringing through time and all eternity. 

"Lol I am always with you: Learn of Me; 
Take on My yoke all ye with care oppressed. 
Come unto Me, and I will give you rest."' 
And this through endless years shall e\er be 
The invitation, to the sad addressed. 
By Him, who walked tlie shores of Galilee. 

I knew not tliat time moved, all seemed the same. 
Yet as I watched the woman tread her way. 
It seemed, her grief had ceased to fill the day 
And night with bitterness, reproach and blame. 
The shadow on her life still seemed to stay 
But other duties, griefs, and sorrows came. 

So years rolled on ; yet to her lonely breast 
One child remained, to clasp from that sad day, 
And baby fingers soothed her grief away. 
And when with loving arms, she fondh" pressed 
The little maid, or watched her at her play. 
Her life took on a nev\-er, sweeter zest. 



ROSALINE 

So day by day, the heart strings of hier life 
Were woven round that child of airy jov, 
Tlirough the bright j^ears that ever seemed to fly 
On wings apart from all the world's sad strife; 
Clianging the child into the maiden coy. 
Standing white footed by the sea of life. 

And he, whose life so bright and fair, 
Was in the city built above. 
Held for the cliild a brother's love; 
Keeping a heax'enly vigil, where 
Mother and sister slow did move, 
Along their pathway there. 

And day by day, the maiden grew, 

Nor knew what heavenly watch Avas kept. 

While she was waking, while she slept, 

Over her everj^ step, nor knew 

Each smile she gave, each tear she wept 

Was known to her watchicr, too. 



ROSALINE 



CANTO FIRST. 



Over New England's sunny hills, 
The spring wind softly stirred ; 
Bearing the music of laughing rills, 
Wafting a few sweet notes and trills. 
From the song of some spring bird. 

Through the wide windows, into the churcli 
It brought the music of bird and rill — • 
Twittering sparrows, lowing cows, 
Rustling leaves, where wild bees house. 
And bleating of sheep on the hill. 

Along the country road were spread 
Clusters of wild flowers, sweet and fair. 
Lifting their heads and smiling up 
At the sini that kissed each tiny cup 
That glowed in the morning air. 

All was still, in the house of God, 

Save the ministers deep-toned prayer; 

Like some soul, pleading through the gloom, 

It echoed over the silent room 

And the heads of the worshipers kneeling there. 




"He seemed to see her figure move 
Through the enchanted meadows, as so oft 
He had beheld her." 



ROSALINE 

Echoed and thrilled the silence through, 

A message to tliose plain countr\' folks. 

Till even the coldest heart that lieard 

Those thrilling words, was touched and stirred, 

Till the deeper spirit within, awoke. 

And was it strange, that the beautiful face 
Of an ardent worshiper, shone with tears 
Of joy. and emotion, at his prayer 
AVhen souls awoke to tremble tliere — 
That had not been stirred ^or years? 

When the prayer was o'er the minister rose 
And stood for a moment, looking down. 
With eyes that shone A\-ith a wondrous liglit. 
Beneath his forehead high and white. 
And his clustering locks of brown. 

Young he was, and a boyish mold 
Lurked in the lines of form and face : 
Yet word and manner suggested more. 
Than the tranquil outward, mien he bore, 
And spoke of a spirit tilled with grace. 

He stood for a moment, looking down 

At the waiting faces raised to him. 

And for the briefest space, he glanced 

To the comer where the sunbeams danced 

On a white arm curved and slim. 



ROSALINE 

For the briefest space, his grave glance Hngered 

On the drooping head, with its golden liair: 

On the perfect beauty of eyes and lips 

Half hid by pearly finger tips. 

As she bowed her head in her white palm there — 

Thinking, she was so pure and fair. 
And. as he stepped again to his place. 
In his earnest eyes was a wistful look. 
As he turned the leaves of the sacred book. 
For there was something in lier face. 

That lifted his thoughts to God and Heaven, 
Yet made him think, with half a sigh, 
"If but these people were blest with her 
Sweet spirit, to guide as their minister. 
Instead of one as weak as I. 

"Yet though misshapen, poor and mean. 
The vessel be." thus his thought ran — 
"Christ can fill up with waters bright." 
Then not in his own. but in Jesus' miglit. 
The minister began. 

"I hear a voice within the wilderness. 
That cries, and cries through all the echoing past, 
'Make straight, oh sons of men. the narrow way: 
Bring hearts of meet repentance, for the day 
Of Jesus' reign, has dawned on earth at last.' 



ROSALINE 

"My friends, that soul awakening cry, 
Through, and across the world has gone, 
Till now, with new joy shall increase 
That call of love, and hope, and peace. 
Till every soul on eartli, be drawn 

"To Him, Who gave for us His hfe; 
And listening to His dear commands, 
Learn to wash out — with toil and pain — 
Each secret sin, and secret shame, 
And blood from guilty hands. 

"'And sliall we come with empty hands. 
Yet hope our heavenly home to win. 
While, in the pathway wliere we go, 
Are brothers, sisters, moaning low 
In the despair of sin? 

"Shall we stand helplessly aside. 
While want and vice walk hand in hand 
Deaf to humanitys despairing cry. 
Knowing their misery is caused, by 
Intemperance in our land! 

"It holds the nation in its grasp, 
And crushes out sweet human hvcs. 
Until the heart must needs o'er- flow, 
With the despair, and pain, and woe. 
Of drunkards' babes and wives. 



ROSALINE 

"I seem to see their tears today, 
Flowing like some dark mighty river; 
The tears of mother, and wife and child, 
Bearing out hope, on its current wild — 
Out of their lives forever. 

"I seem to see a ceaseless stream 
Of mankind, marching to their doom; 
Young lads, with gay flushed faces fair, 
And men, with the dark word, despair, 
In characters of gloom 

"Flung on their faces, wliere the trace 
Of manhood, seems to be extinct. 
They come, the liusbands, brothers, so: 
Red with the blood of darling ones, 
Down to tlie chasms' brink. 

"I know, I speak to temperate men. 
Who take no glass, however small; 
Who give advice, to lead the way, 
Give their example day by day; 
But have you given a//? 

"My brothers, Did von give your vote' 
Or did you press Hells burning cup 
Unto your brothers' lips, that you 
Might — to your early training true — 
Still keep yovu' fathers' party up. 



ROSALINE 

"In licensing the liquor trade, 
You share the liquor dealer's blot ; 
And dare you share it, knowing how, 
The voice of Wisdom, saA^s that thou 
Shalt touch not, taste not, liandle not? 

"Think you not, then, your brothers blood 
Will yet be counted to your cost. 
If putting l)ack the cup of woe 
You gave it unto liim, and lo — 
\'oit tempted hiim, and he was lost? 

"And sliall you at God's judgment bar. 

Be counted innocent of guilt 

If touching, tasting not, you laid 

Your sea.1, upon the damning trade 

Wherewith your brothers' blood was spilt? 

"Oh brothers! shall we stop at this — 
This half compliance to God's call — 
Or shall we give our votes our li\ es 
Like men and Christians: Shall we rise — 
Rise in our manhood and give a//? 

"And you, my sisters, we need you; 
Though your fair hands no vote may ha\e. 
Still rests within your fingers white 
The power to lead men to the right; 
The power to lift; the power to save. 



ROSALINE 

"Oh mothers teach each child to shun 
The cup, that only death doth bring, 
That sparkles, while it bears a blight, 
And hides beneath its bubbles briglit 
A serpents deadly sting. 

"And most, oh maidens, I charge you; 
Moke it the purpose of your lives — 
No matter what else fortune brings 
Or where love's dove may rest her wings- 
Tliat ye be not drunkards' wives. 

"Let no affection blind your eyes; 
No matter what your lo\'er thinks; 
No matter how he pleads, that he 
Will ne\'er love drink more than tliee — 

W cd thou no man that drinl-s. 

"Frame in your minds, the sage adx'ice, 
Tliat sliall be as advice di\-ine: 
Lo\'ers may come and argue mucli: 
But say, 'The lips that liquor toucli. 
vShall never touch with mine.' 

"Dear friends, in closing let me say. 
That, whetlier short, or whether long — 
The time, we struggle with tliis foe — 
The liquor trade, must surely go, 
And free our land from wrone. 



ROSALINE 

"And till that blessed time shall come, 
Oh, let us follow where Christ trod; 
Fighting the battle in His name, 
Making each prayer, each hope, each aim, 
For country, and for God." 

The sermon o'er, the people rose, 

And sweetly swelled their voices there — 

"Praise God from whom all blessings flow" — 

They echoed through the vales below. 

And thrilled the morning air. 

And then the minister came down, 
And by the doorway took his stand; 
And as their outward way they took, 
A kindly word to eacli he spoke. 
And warmly sliook each liand. 

Then through the peaceful summer morn. 
They sought their homes among the hills; 
And each one with a kindly thought. 
For the high thoughts and kind deeds wrought, 
By their pastor, Ernest Mills. 

And when they all, at last, were gone, 
And drawn the blinds, and closed the door, 
He Avandered out upon the road. 
Pausing to pluck the flowers that glowed 
The church vard fence before. 



ROSALINE 

Tlien wandered on with half a smile, 
Speaking his musing thoughts aloud, 
As if he did not think to fear 
That some small, saucy wind, might hear 
And whisper to the flowers— that bowed 

Their smiling faces by the way — 

The secret, he but meant to lend 

To the white violets, and blue, 

That, plucked from where they lowly grew, 

He held within his hand. 

"How wonderful; liow wonderful," he said, 
"That God should make a world so bright, 
Filled with such wealth by sea and land, 
And render to a human hand. 
The keys of its delight. 

"Should make so beautiful a life. 
Lit with a spirit so divine. 
And then should render unto me — 
Who hath so little worth — the key 
Of that dear heart, as mine. 

"And yet I know she loves me; 
For who could fail to understand 
The sweet shy blush of sudden shame — 
That to her face this morning came — • 
When I, a moment, held her liand. 



ROSALINE 

"I love her, yet I fear to speak 
And claim what I so gladly would ; 
For what have I to offer her, 
Who is so beautiful and fair, 
To make my suit seem good. 

"Unless, indeed, a true heart's love 
Requite for riches unpossessed. 
This much, at least, I her could give — • 
Of what I am, and what I have. 
The noblest and the best." 

And thus his pensive thoughts ran on, 
Until at last he left the road — 
With its long fringe of budding trees 
That whispered softly in the breeze — 
And crossed the lawn where he abode. 

To pause a moment a.t the door — 
Still half lost in the tender dream. 
His fancy painted, of his love — 
Then turned, and entering, was told, 
A guest awaited him. 

With rapid, steps he gained his room, 
But drew back, when he swung tl:e door^ 
With an exclamation of surprise, 
At the strange sight that met his eyes; 
His visitor lay upon tlie floor, 



ROSALIXE 

While from liis white hps half apart, 
His life blood flowed in rapid tide, 
That stained the grizzled beard that grew 
About his face, a crimson hue. 
Until his ragged clothes were dyed. 

Greatly alarmed, tlie minister 
Cared for his suffering guest. 
And then a messenger he sought. 
Asking a doctor should be bi'ought. 
And with the utmost liaste. 

Again returning to his room 
He found the stranger, whom he had 
Feared dead, had gained his consciousness 
By those simple, helpful, means of his 
Without the doctors aid. 

And now upon his elbow leanin.g, 
He stared at him with bloodsliot eyes 
That wore a look of liaAinted fear; 
And when the minister drew near. 
He struggled to arise — 

And failing — shra,nk amid the clothes, 
Wliile in a weak voice crying — 
"I beg by heavens' mercy, Sir, 
If you come as an officer, 
Don't take me for I'm dying." 



ROSALINE 

"Brother" — and Ernest Mills knelt down 

And took his trembling hand — 

"Fear not! no officer is here. 

Be strong my brother, have good cheer. 

And know I am your friend." 

A while the wild eyes searched his face, 
While to a lower accent fell 
The voice that liad been strained by fear. 
"You are the minister that's here? 
Then listen for I've much to tell." 

Again upon his elbow raised. 
He gasped awhile for breath; 
"I have a message you must take. 
And a confession I must make, 
And I am close to death." 

"Make not to me but unto God. 
Confession of your sin. 
I Avill pray for you, while you live, 
But His the office to forgive. 
And let repentant sinners in — 

"To the dear blessing of his love" — 
"Wait, when you've heard what I've to say 
It wont be hard for you to see 
That God has got no use for me : 
And I no use to pray. 



ROSALINE 

"I've gone to the devil, body and soul. 
Every man's soul has a price they say: 
But the price of mine was rather small — - 
If you could call it a price at all — 
Only a drink on a holiday. 

"I once had a wife, and a little girl. 

And a beautiful noble son ; 

But I took the drink that the tempter gave, 

And by that drink, became a slave, 

And he stamped me for one of his own. 

"It is easy to see how I went down. 
When once the danger line was crossed ; 
From what I was, to what I am, 
With the words written to my nanie. 
Lost! lost! forever lost." 

It seemed to Ernest Mills, that he 
Had never seen such depth of sin. 
And misery, and despair before. 
As in those moments, till the door 
Swung wide, and Dr. Hume came in. 

A young man. Hume, and rather dark. 
With flashing eyes and raven hair. 
And rapid, nervous style, that made 
Sharp contrast, to the manner staid. 
Of Mills, as thev talked there. 



ROSALINE 

Yet though so different, they were friends, 

And closely bound together, 

By ties of love, as plainly showed, 

By the doctor's talk, which snapped and glowed. 

Like lires in windy weather. 

"Ernest I" he said, "I had a scare. 
That boy you sent was such a dunce. 
"With tlie best guessing I could do 
He made me understand t'was you; 
You may believe, I came at once. 

"As for this man, he has no chance; 

I don't hide truth. You picked him up 

Sick, somewhere did you? He's broke down; 

And with his constitution gone. 

There isn't any hope." 

He stood and with long fingers drummed 

L'pon the oaken stand. 

While Mills, returning to the bed 

Tried to efface what he had said. 

And gently took the poor man's hand. 

Saying, If further he would speak, 
The doctor Avas a friend most close. 
Who could be trusted. "Let him stay, " 
The sick man answered, "Any way 
It does not matter now, who knows, 

28 



ROSALINE 

"How far that tempters first vile glass, 
The price was paid in full; 
Paid by a fair life's golden sands. 
Paid by the blood that's on my hands. 
And guilt that's on my soul. 

"My little girl was three years old; 
My boy was seventeen. 
And I had loved children and wife, 
Better, far better than my life, 
Till drink ca.me in between." 

He faltered and his breath came fast 

His accents to a whisper sank. 

"For fifteen years I've shunned this spot 

Because that noble son I shot 

Crazed by the liquor that I drank. 

"We quarreled. He wanted me to stop 
Bartering my soul — Oh God in heaven! 
Can this be death that clasps me now, 
With its cold fingers on my brow? 
Dying! and unforgiven! 

"And did I cry to God? But no; 
I have btit one request to make, 
Before I go to that dark tomb 
That holds not rest, but endless gloom. 
This message you must take — 



ROSALINE 

"To Mrs. Winthrop Allison. 
Say to her only this. 
That he, who as a murderer fled 
To coward exile, now is dead. 
Dead as that honored name of liis. 

"Dead as that name, and as his soul" — 
And as his own doom he had said. 
The words of hoarse confession died. 
And when the doctor reached his side. 
He found that he was dead. 




'Long they stood, 

hand clasped in hand. 



ROSALINE 



PRELUDE TO CANTO SECOND. 
The Guardian. [Second Vision.] 

Somehow a soul had wandered far, 
Far from the path that leads to light. 
Giddily wandered, where the shades of care 
Were gathered dark, to fill it with despair. 
While in that city bright 

A sweet fa.ir spirit, held the open book 
Of his life story, through its pages dim. 
Writing the words of fate, that ne\-ermore 
Should know recall. And from that fair blest 

shore. 
Unceasingly, a \'oice was calling hini. 

Calling forever, through the gulf between, 

And through the vale of pain and sin ; 

Seeking to win his wayward heart. 

Calling, and calling him — "Oh thou who art 

A child of God — Return, return to Him! " 

And can a ma,n return to God, 
Whose guilty hands a crime has done? 
Shall he who seeks the Father's grace — 
Imploring for a servant's place — 
Be called a mAich loved son? 



ROSALINE 

I think so: Through the realm of space 
There is no spirit so unKnown — 
Through all the circling ages wild, 
No soul — but God has called His child, 
And numbered as his own. 



CANTO SECOXD. 

Ten days had passed, and morning beam 
Had scarcely dimmed the stars of night 
When the minister arose ; 
He could not sleep for the wild glad song 
A robin sang to the breaking light. 

So at his window he musing stood 
Looking out, over the dewy la.nd 
Softly tinted with light and shade. 
As if tlie world were newly made, 
And beautiful, from the Maker's ha.nd. 

He could see the church at the turn of the road. 

And the grave yard on the hill , 

What strange black shadows the white stones 

cast, 
Or did some one stand by the new made grave. 
Herself like a shadow, black and still. 



ROSALINE 

Quietly, through the path he went — 
He could not leave her there alone — 
And stood beside her. "Mrs. Allison," 
He faltered, and could say no more. 
Her sorrow seemed so much his own. 

And oh so doubly weak, his words. 
He felt would be, her grief to heal; 
So he stood silent there until 
She lifted her calm face, and said, 
' ' Kind friend it comforts me to feel 

Your generous sympathy; and yet, 
Grieve not for me, though strong and wild 
The tempest through lifes stormy night 
God's tender love is still the light 
Which guides my spirit. And my child 

"Knows not this is her father's grave. 
For I have hidden from her ej^es 
This sorrow. Long since I became 
Reconciled to all the grief, and sliame. 
That in tlie sad past lies. 

"Oh, not without rebellion was my soul 
Toward life, that left me blind to grope, 
Until I learned — grief's peak upon — 
To wait for God's good time to dawn. 
In faith, and love, and hope." 



ROSALINE 

In reverence to her spirit calm — 

So full of peace and grace — 

The minister, upon his knees 

Knelt down, and took her hand in his, 

And pressed it to his face. 

Saying, "Your life has been so sad 
Can I, in ought atone? 
I love your daughter. Let me care 
For her, and your sad pathway cheer. 
And be to yo\i a son." 

Kindly she spoke. "Let not my grief 
O'er shadow her or you." 
She stroked the brown hair of his head; 
"Take her you love, my boy" she said, 
"And take my blessirg too." 

When she was gone, he lingered there. 
Feeling, that trees and flowers, though dumb, 
Were answering voices to his heart. 
For when to natures child, some great 
Sorrow, or joy doth come 

Only alone in her grea^t solitudes 

Is solace to be found and rest. 

And unto her lie goes in confidence. 

To tell his joy, as might some little child 

Seek sympathy upon a mother's breast. 



R(3SALINE 

"Herbert! " he cried in startled wonderment. 
As he came of a sudden, amid the path, 
To where a man was lying prone — 
Face downward — whither lie had thrown 
Himself upon the grass. 

Tlie doctor heard liis ^■oice. and started up, 
With hot flushed face, and wild}" rumpled hair. 
"Ernest;'' he gasped in shame faced way, 
Tlien plucked a budding blossom spray, 
With feigned nonchalance in his air. 

"You startled me," lie said, with nervous laugh; 

"Natures so lovely at tliis time of year" — 

He glanced, with an unseeing eye. 

At budding trees and shining sky — 

"I was lured to liave a day dream here." 

Yet anything but a dreamy mood. 
Seemed mirrored in liis air; 
His weary eyes, and liaggard look. 
The while he half abstracted spoke 
Of nature's beauties fair. 

This his friend noted, while tliey talked; 

TJntil — alarmed at last — 

He laid his hand upon his arm, 

And with a sweetly winning charm 

In his grave accents, asked. 



ROSALINE 

"Herbert you seem perturbed today, 
What is the matter, are you ill ? " 
The doctor dropped at once his air 
Of half affected debonair. 
And stood a moment still — 

The while his face grew set and white — 
Then with it half averted, said 
In a \oice, that seemed without expression — 
"You remember that dying man's confession 
I am wrecking my life as he did. 

"I would rather have died than tell you this, 

Knowing how you despise 

The man who is weak enough to drink — 

You can only fancy, how I shrink 

From bearing, before your eyes, 

"My life's one terrible mistake. 
I am as good as its slave today." 
The doctor did not raise his eyes — • 
"I know that you are much surprised, 
And grie\-ed, by what I say." 

Mills stood astounded, by his words. 

It seemed impossible to tliink 

The doctor Avas not going mad. 

At last — in much shocked tones— lie said, 

"Do vou mea.n, yoii are a slave to drink? " 



ROSALINE 

■*'! niean just that," he answered, still 
With shamed eyes turned aside, 
Bowing his head, before thie grief, 
And wondering tone of disbehef 
With whicli his friend rephed. 

The doctor's voice was hoarse. He said 
"I would far rather died, than faced 
The judgment you must pass on me. 
It would be hard for you to see 
Clearly, the position in which I'm placed. 

"Where I, and every doctor's placed. 
Is one of peculiarly great temptation. 
And the reason for this, is in the fact, 
We know how drink, or drugs, will act. 
In any trying situation. 

"And mind you, when it comes to that — 
When one gives up caring for the cost — 
Or where his course will lead at length. 
And leans on drink, to give him strength - 
He's prett}^ nearly lost. 

"God knows, I'm lost already. 

Oh bhnd, blind fool that I have proved! 

To take my life, and from me fling 

Honor, ambition, everything, 

E^•en the woman that I loved. 

38 



ROSALINE 

"The fairest gift God ever gave — 
Oh Rosaline! my own true love, 
Forgive the man who scorned thy tears, 
Counting as only girlish fears, 
The perils Avhich you warned me of! 

"Forgive — forget, his worthless name — 
Yes, I have prayed for that, and yet 
How wholly dark life's night would be, 
Without one guiding star for me. 
If she should e'er forget. 

"I know she will not, even in church 
There have been times when I could see 
Her sitting there, her face half hid. 
And the tears shining in lier eyes, 
And knew they were for me. 

"But it is over: I have fought and lost 
The battle for my soul, and shall sink low 
Till even she will draw her skirts aside — 
Meeting me in the street — nor ever dream 
That I am him she loved and trusted so." 

There are moments in this vale of ours — • 
Moments each heart must sometimes see- 
When every earthly aid departs, 
Leaving the soul alone, to meet 
And pass through, its Gethsemane. 

39 



ROSALINE 

And to the minister, that field, 
Graced by the fairest flowers of spring, 
Became — as he hstened to his friend — 
The Calvary, where his cross was set; 
The garden of his suffering. 

For in a flash, he seemed to see 

The whole great struggle. She with spirit brave, 

Sending from her tlie man she loved, 

Because he was too weak to rend 

The chains, that made of him a slave. 

He saw his duty ; that he must 
Forget himself, and strive to save 
This soul, for God, though for all time 
His own love should be hopeless made. 
And was he then less brave 

That, for a moment, in his niind there rose 
Trembling in the balance, the deep love 
That he had cherished. All liis tender dreams 
Rose up before him, till again 
He seemed to see her figure move 

Through the enchanted meadows, as so oft 

He had beheld her, or as where 

In church she had been kneeling. 

So pure and beautiful, her fair head bowed. 

With the bright sunbeams falling on her liair. 



ROSALINE 

In thought, he saw himself and Rosahne 
Stand, on the two banks of a deep ravine. 
And at its foot his friend ; and if he strove 
To aid him now, that gulf must sever them 
Till all eternity would roll between. 

He saw it all so clearly; but he looked 
Beyond his love, down to his friend. 
And standing at that chasm's brink — - 
"Notwithstanding his love for her — 
Reached down to him, his hand." 

"There is no burden so supreme. 
But God can help us bear 
That burden, to the end, and win 
The struggle. Are we chained by sin? 
Are we sunk in the waves of despair? 

"We need but to cry to the Master, 

And his loving accents will speak 

The 'Be still,' that shall mean our salvation: 

For He, having suffered temptation. 

Can succor the tempted and weak. 

"Trust Him. For long since, on the billow. 
When the waves were drawing them in. 
Men called on His mercy, and He 
Heard their cry, and stilled the wild seas. 
And so on the billows of sin, 



ROSALINE 

"When our spirits are sun^ in despair 

Of ever reaching the land — 

Lo! mid the darkness and weakness, and pain, 

We may hear the 'Be still' of His dear voice 

again. 
And feel tlie firm clasp of his hand. 

"And think not that / will turn from you; 

Oh Herbert, 'tis in moments like this — 

Dark moments like this — that our souls should 

draw near, 
Should be closest, in moments of trial and fear. 
And if there be courage and peace 

"In my heart, oh not then my office to scorn. 

But rejoice, that it should not be lost. 

God gave it to me, that unto my friend 

The courage, and peace, of my soul I might lend, 

In the hour when he needed them most. 

"Not now your privilege to despair, 
Or mine to scorn. The task 
That lies before us, now, is plain. 
We must fight on ; and we shall win 
The conflict if we onlv ask 



ROSALIx\E 

"Of God, who giveth unto all, 
With free and bounteous hand. 
There is no failing; you must win. 
Now is the moment to begin. 
And take a manly stand. 

"Do not give up the one you love 
Seek rather to deserve to win 
Her love, walking temptation tlirough; 
His hand will help you; and I, too. 
Will help you all I can." 

The Doctor's eyes were swimming. "You can 

help, 
Help me, I know, to reach His hand; 
For I am. sinking, I am sore distressed; 
Help me to find that shore of perfect rest, 
For I am weary, seeking for the land." 

He lifted up his dark eyes. "Pray for me" 
He said, with white face turned, to where. 
Beneath the blossom laden trees. 
The minister, upon his knees. 
Knelt down, in fervent prayer. 

His voice began in accents low — 
"My father, help this erring child 
Of thine, for he has wandered far 
Into the night, without a star 
To light the pathway wild. 



ROSALINE 

"And now, the battle he must fight, 
Has grown to an unequal task; 
Too great for any one but Thou : 
And in my weakness, even now 
I come to Thee, and ask 

"That througli the trials he must face, 
Thy strong arm will uphold 
One who is near, and dear to me: 
Lo ! I cominend him unto Thee ; 
Lord, keep him in thy fold." 

Silent awhile the doctor stood, 
Striving the better to allay 
His heart's emotion; then he said, 
"I know it was God's hand that led 
My steps to you today. 

"For you have raised my soul above 
Its own weak sin, and pain 
To knowledge of a power on high. 
Tha,nk you! I will go back and try 
Bravely to fill my post again ; 

"And with His aid I'll conquer." 

Long they stood, hand clasped in hand. 

Then with firm step, and altered look. 

His homeward way the doctor took, 

Across the meadows, through the sun-kissed land, 



ROSALINE 

Where the young lambs were bleating in the 

fields, 
That early flowers clustered in; 
And all his spirit seemed to cry, rejoice! 
Because within his soul he heard that voice 
Wliich said "Be still," and knew that he could 

win. 

Long time after Dr. Hume 
Departed, Ernest Mills 
Stood there alone in the fading light. 
Watching the shining stars of night, 
Glea.m out above the hills. 

And there he fought the bitter conflict out, 
Made his renunciation, buried there 
Deep in his loya,l heart, his love for her. 
Never to be forgotten, or effaced. 
Yet to remain unspoken, till, somewhere, 

In God's eternity, a time shall come. 
When those who sorrow, joy shall find abo\'e 
And they be comforted who daily mourn, 
And hearts that here by hopeless love are torn. 
Shall find an answerine love. 



ROSALINE 

The summer bloomed and faded. Autumn came 

Witli its rich harvests. Brightly glowed 

The forests. While each hill and plain 

Was yellow with a wealth of grain, 

And orchards bowed beneath their load. 

Yet in the Master's vineyard, there 

Had been a greater harvest made, 

With which earth's wealth could not compare. 

When humbly at the Saviours' feet 

The doctor's rich young life was laid. 

And now the ransom had been paid 
And he had reached the level plain 
Of life, where he had worked before. 
He could be satisfied no more, 
But must keep on again, 

Climbing the heights, that in the days 
Of sinless youth, he had not trod; 
Aud thus out of his life's mistake, 
His faith the stepping stone should make, 
That would lead him up to God. 

The red October sun was low. 
When through the fields the doctor passed; 
And lingered in the pathwaj'^ green 
Thinking, with full heart of the scene, 
When he had stood there last. 

46 




'Wearing the look which only he can gain, 
Who, having known the cross of this world's pain 
And having stood that trial, bears the trace 
Of a diviner love than this world knows." 



ROSALINE 

And silently witliin Ins heart 

He thanked his Maker; not alone 

For the new peace his life had gained, 

Bnt for its suffering a.s well, 

The lieights and depths that he had known. 

As he stood there, the setting sun 
Lit up the land, till golden-rod 
And scarlet leaves, a,nd fields of brown 
Were gilded with tlie light, and he 
Seemed sta.nding in the smile of God. 

Now through tlie glowing meadows, Rosaline 
Came, all unconscious of her lover near, 
Until with sudden, sweet surprise. 
At the low gate, she raised her eyes. 
And met his, grave and clear. 

\\\ tliat sudden, silent glance. 
Their souls were bared of every fond disguise, 
And as the daylight faded, neither stirred. 
For there could be no need of any word, 
To tell the tender story of their eyes. 

At last lie put the slender gate aside 
And stood beside her, "Rosaline" lie said, 
"I ask you to forgive me, as God has 
Forgiven me, and wa.shed away my sins — ■ 
Taught me to love the pathway where Iic led. 

4S 



ROSALINE 

"And now beloved, 1 come to you; 
Not that I am deserving, for I know 
How little I am worthy; but my plea. 
My only plea, is that I come dear heart- 
Because I love vou so. 



"And oh, because I need you;" his deep voice 
Sank low, till she must needs incline 
Her head, to catch the accents of his love- 
Low as the wind that sighed above — 
Faltering, "Trust me Rosahne." 

Low were his words, but lower still 

The answer that was given. 

So only the man beside her, heard. 

And the still night wind, that softly stirred, 

And the angels tliat were in Heaven, 

The loyal troth that was plighted there, 
As they wandered through the twilight hour; 
Noting the strange new sweetness, in the lay 
A dreamy bird, sang to the dying day, 
Breathing the strange new "fragrance of each 
flower. 



ROSALINE 

The waves were beating on the rocks 
Where the minister had gone, to spend 
A few brief weeks of needed rest, 
As he one mom walked by the shore, 
And read a letter from his friend. 

Calmly he read it to the end; 

"Dear Ernest" it concluded "You 

Must say the words that make her mine." 

And the wild answer in his heart 

Was, "This I cannot do!" 

Yet rather than in avight to mar 
His friend's great happiness, 
He prayed for courage, till at length 
He knew his spirit had gained strength. 
Strength to endure, even this. 

And ere the autumn came again, 
There dawned a lovely summer day, 
When all the country folk around, 
Together at the church were found, 
While birds were singing gay. 

Amid the scene of joy, and mirth. 

The minister stepped to his place; 

Wearing the look which only he can gain 

Who having known the cross of this world's pain, 

And having stood that trial, bears the trace 



ROSALINE 

Of a diviner lo^•e, than tliis world knows; 
Of greater strength, and deeper sacrifice. 
And at the altar, 'mid the flow^ers perfume — 
Stood Rosaline and Herbert Hume, 
With clasped hands, and grave downcast eyes. 



ROSALINE 



PRELUDE TO CAXTO THIRD. 

The Guardian. [Third Vision.] 

I saw the Angel by the sea 

That runs the hiea\enly city through, 

Holding a scepter in his liand ; 

And breathing from tliat happy land, 

A benediction on the two. 

He blest them, with liis liand upraised. 
And eyes of heavenly light 
Full of deep peace: Where are the tears. 
That spoke his sorrows, grief, and fears— 
When he reached that city bright. 

Where are they. He was weeping then 
Over the sorrows of that day; 
And his soul reached that blessed land 
Laden with pain. But lo: God's hand 
Has wiped his tears away. 



ROSALINE 



CAXTO THIRD. 



Summer and winters changing mood, 
Snow, and flowers, and springtime rain, 
Chase each other round so fast; 
And so three years went ghding past. 
And it was June again. 

And Rosahne and Herbert Hume 
Had yearly kept their wedding day, 
By a quiet lunch in the garden wide, 
With sometimes a few friends beside, 
And sometimes only they. 

So in the Doctor's garden — 
Where the roses w^ere blushing red, 
Shedding their perfume on the breeze — - 
Rosaline waited under the trees, 
Witl: snowy table, spread. 

I\Io\'ing about with airv grace, 
Arranging, with zealous wifely care. 
The lunch, and dislies, now and tlien 
Scattering roses in between ; 
Turning with questioning glance to where 



ROSALINE 

Her mother sat, to ask of her 

If she thought this, or that, was right; 

Or coming fondly to her chair, 

To bend her smiHng face down — where 

Her mother's arms disclosed the white 

Soft ruflles of a baby's dress — 

To kiss in ecstacies of joy, 

Her sleeping baby's dimpled hands, 

Or the soft, tangled, sunny strands 

Of hair that crowned her tiny boy. 

Whose year of lordly, earthly reign, 
Had not yet chased from wondering eyes. 
Cobwebs of fairy weave, that still 
Drew back to dream land, at their will 
Orbs blue as summer skies. 

And so the summer morning passed 

Till Rosaline — impatient of the hours 

Her husband had been absent — took 

Her way, down to the margin of the brook, 

And stood beside the path, among the flowers. 

And so he found her, when he came 

With his friend, walking arm in arm. 

As smiling she held out her hand to them. 

Tlie minister held it a moment while .he bowed. 

In his grave wav, that held a charm — 



ROSALINE 

A subtle something that perchance 
Lay in the bright, magnetic smile 
That came and lighted up his face, 
With unexpected winning grace, 
Tlien slipped away again, the while 

You marveled at it; leaving him 
With features almost sadly grave. 
So it lit up his features then — 
Lit them, and left them grave again — - 
While Rosaline demurely gave 

Him welcome. When he let her fingers go 

Her husband caught them. Holding both hci 

hands 
He stooped and kissed her; then 
Turned to his friend, and met his quiet gaze 
Witli his own brilliant glance. 

"I never look up to the sky" he said 
' ' I never make a prayer 
But I thank God for having gi\-en 
To me, this little earthly heaven. 
And this sweet woman here. 



ROSALINE 

"For oil how often, when any soul was faint 
And God seemed far away, unreal and dim, 
The thought of her — that she believed in me 
When I had proven weak so many times — ■ 
And of her faith, has led me back to Him." 

But Rosaline lifted her eyes. "In spite 
Of what Herbert may say, I know, I knew, 
Whose hand it was led him to God. And when 
I think how much I love him, then I feel 
How great the debt is, that I owe to you." 

Suddenly to his eyes the quick tears sprang 
And glistened. Though the minister 
Had not wept for his lost love, he wept now 
For the pure joy of hearing her dear lips 
Avow that he had served her. 

Through that bright mist, he raised his eyes unto 
The tender sky above, so blue, so vast; 
The trees, the fields, the flowers, in one 
Swift glance of gratitude, till they 
Rested upon liis friends — at last — - 

In benediction. While he, in his heart, 
Made this mute prayer, to the great heart above 
Who loves and cares for us : " This hour requites 
For all that I have suffered. Keep them so — 
Forever more tmited, in Thy love." 



ROSALINE 

CONCLUSION. 

[Fourth Vision.] 

The woods are still and silent grown ; 

The summer day is done. 

I thought I saw, as in a dream, 

A ladder, stretching like a beam 

Thrown from the setting sun. 

And — like the ladder Jacob saw — 
I thought, upon its golden bars, 
I saw a host of angels bright, 
Come from the city of Dehght, 
That lies among the stars. 

I thought I heard, in accents soft 
The echoes from that country Good; 
But now, through the enchanted trees 
I only seem to hear the breeze, 
Go Avhispering through the wood. 

Was it heavenly music dying away? 
Or, only the maples sighing play — 
On the mossy bank, in the sunset's glow 
Amid the woodland blossoms low — 
Where I sat to rest today? 



ROSALINE 

But though the woods are still again. 
I know I'll sometinies catch the strain; 
The echoes of that rapturous song, 
That swells from the celestial throng, 
Who tread that heavenly plain. 

And sometimes, when the night is still, 
Those sweet, glad voices, I shall hear 
Across the darkness murmuring low; 
And listening then, my soul shall knov/, 
That Angels of our God are near. 



DEC 



18 '9^ 






M.Jg^ 



^^(T"'-/ 



